


Sharp Things

by Bunnywest



Series: Rabbit verse [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fisting, Knotting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Piercings, Overstimulation, Safe Sane and Consensual, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-07 13:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Newly married, Peter and Stiles take the next step.





	1. Needles and Pins

**Author's Note:**

> You get one chapter, one. No more till I get back into town next week. don't even ask!

Stiles opens one eye carefully, trying to place what pulled him from his sleep. It only takes a moment for him to realise that it’s Peter. More specifically, Peter's hand, gently playing with his soft cock. And Peter’s hard dick, pressing against his ass.

“Nope” he mutters sleepily, trying to bat the hands away unsuccessfully. Peter kisses gently up his neck, crooning “Are you sure, rabbit? Can’t manage one more? It is our honeymoon, after all”

Stiles rolls over and sighs. “Peter, I’m only human, and you’ve gotten me off so often that I’ve lost count. It’s been amazing, but I physically can’t”

“I see how it is “ Peter teases, “They say sex goes out the window once a couple ties the knot, but I didn’t think it would happen overnight. I’m hurt Stiles, and deeply upset that you no longer desire me”.

“Yep” Stiles agrees, “Just married you for the family name, and from now on it’s going to be once a month on a Sunday, if you’re lucky. “

Peter’s hand moves away, and he goes back to just kissing his husband’s neck, even as his cock lays hard between them. Stiles half turns so he’s on his back, and comments “Wow, you didn’t try very hard to convince me. I guess the magic really is gone” he pouts, as he runs his hand idly over his tattoo.

He sees Peter’s eyes lingering on the ink, and smirks. He didn’t know Peter would be so affected by his tattoos, but he’s glad he is. He wonders about getting one more while he can.

Peter draws him out of his woolgathering with a hungry kiss, and a murmured “When you say no, I take you at your word, darling, but if you’ve changed your mind…….and by the way, six”.

Stiles takes a second to catch up “Six what? Oh. Oh, holy shit. I think that’s a record even for newlyweds.”

“I did say I’d make you come until you couldn’t walk, and I’m a man of my word Stiles” drawls Peter, his tone husky and delicious, and Stiles thinks, maybe, maybe he could manage a little something, even as his cock twitches a little. Peter sees it, and gives a wicked grin.

“Are you asking me to seduce you  Stiles? Then that’s a different thing entirely….” His voice trails off as Stiles slowly and deliberately licks his lips, and grinds his hip against Peter’s erection.

“Convince me, Peter - I’m open to persuasion”.

And now that he’s a little more awake, he is.

Peter doesn’t make it fancy, he simply slides two fingers into Stiles’ still loose hole, and starts rubbing the tips across his prostate gently, in the way he knows Stiles loves. As he sees his cock start to fill, plumping and pinking so prettily, he leans across and starts sucking on some of the marks he’d left the night before.

Stiles hisses between his teeth.

His fingers are moving in and out faster now, as he whispers “Still not interested, rabbit?”

Stiles moans, and starts pushing against Peter, manhandling him onto his back.

He throws his leg over Peter’s hips, straddling him, and then stretches his arms over his head, arching his back in a shameless display of all his assets.

Now it’s Peter turn to lick his lips as he takes in the miles of pale skin, the tight abs, those broad shoulders, and those damned tattoos. He reaches his hands out and places then on Stile’s hips, tugging him forwards so that his cock is sliding up and down in the cleft of his ass. Stiles is still open and wet from their last round, so it’s barely any effort for him to reach back and place Peter’s cockhead at his entrance, and then slowly slide down onto the length of solid flesh.

He stays still for a moment, adjusting, and then gently begins to raise and lower himself. “You’re very persuasive, husband, not too bad at all”, he grins. “Maybe we’ll manage twice a month”

Peter snorts, muttering "I'll give you not too bad", even as he lets Stiles take the lead. He wants this to be good for him, and he knows his boy is tender from last night - even if he’d enjoyed the rough play as much as Peter had, the human body can only take so much.

They’ve settled into a slow steady rhythm now, all the time in the world, nowhere to be, nothing else but each other to think about. They take their time, and when the strain gets too much for Stile’s thighs, Peter flips them smoothly and goes right back to gently fucking into him, making sure the angle is right to hit that spot inside, getting gasps and groans of pleasure from Stiles as he rides the waves of sensation. Stiles is running his hands up and down Peter’s sides and back,, and sucking on Peter’s collarbone  hard enough to sting deliciously.

Peter can feel the heat pooling in his belly as he gets closer to orgasm, so he slides a hand between them and starts to stroke Stiles’ shaft, murmuring “Getting close, rabbit”.

Stiles arches up a little into his touch, sighing, and Peter strokes him more firmly, just this side of rough, how he knows his boy loves it. He starts to move a little faster, and with a particularly firm thrust he nails Stiles’ prostate.  Stiles gasps out “Fuck! More!“ at the burst of sensation, and Peter obliges, aiming his hits deliberately, pressing in firmly, until Stiles clenches around his cock as he comes, a tiny spurt of liquid all that comes out of his spent cock. _Milked him dry_ , thinks Peter, even as the squeezing sensation around his length has him shooting his own release.

They lay there, still joined, panting quietly. They’re past speaking.

Finally, Peter withdraws slowly, shushing Stiles as he whimpers a little at the empty feeling.

Peter looks at Stiles, laying with one arm over his eyes, bruises littering his body, a string of hickeys on his throat, legs spread akimbo, displaying his rosy colored hole which is still stretched out and leaking come, his own release smeared across his belly, and the words **Bite Me** clearly visible on his ribs.

 Peter thinks he looks gorgeous.

He still can’t believe that he gets to have this.

He hears a gentle snore, and sees that Stiles is dozing, exhausted. He doesn’t wake even as Peter gets a warm cloth and cleans him up. Peter watches him sleep, losing track of time just admiring the sight before him.

 There’s no need to wake him, he thinks.

He needs to be rested for what’s to come later.

Peter rolls out of bed and goes to shower - they’ve both made a mess of themselves, and the hot water feels good on his skin. He stays in longer than he needs to, just enjoying the relaxing spray. He has his eyes closed when he feels a body pressed behind him, and Stiles rests his head on his shoulder, humming.

“Missed you wolf” he whispers into Peters ear. “Wanted you to snuggle with”

Peter turns in his arms and kisses him, saying “Sorry rabbit, if I didn’t move we were going to be glued together. As it is, I think the sheets are a write-off.”

Stiles shrugs. “Sign of a good wedding night”.

‘Indeed’ Peter agrees.  “And our first day as a married couple” he adds, uncharacteristically sentimental for him. He covers the moment by pouring shower gel into his hand and rubbing it over Stiles in a business like fashion, saying “let’s clean you up, sweetheart, and then we’ll plan our day.”

 Stiles puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders and holds him out in front of him, looking him in the eye. “Today’s plan is go into town, and get pierced. Possibly get one last tattoo. Come back here, take the bite, and get awesome wolf powers. Plan for the rest of the week? To practice my wolf powers, have hot sex with my husband, get the mating bite, and have more sex”.

Peter had been going to ease into the discussion about the Bite, but now he doesn’t have to. He nods at Stiles, saying ‘Good plan rabbit. Think about where you want both bites. The first one won’t scar, but the mating bite will. Choose whether you want it somewhere private, or a more public spot.”

 

The water is starting to run cold now, so they dry themselves off and Stiles makes grabby hands at the coffee maker.

As he self-medicates with caffeine, Peter makes them breakfast, and they eat in comfortable silence, both lost in their thoughts.

After they’re done, they head into town for their piercing appointment. Stiles looks at Peter in the car, grinning.

“What?” Peter asks him.

“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Stiles says, and Peter can see that he’s both nervous and excited. “I’m about to get steel bars put in my chest, and then you’re really going to bite me”.

“I believe that’s the plan, rabbit. Are you nervous? “ he asks softly.

‘Honestly Peter? I’m fucking _terrified “_ he whispers.

 Peter’s about to tell him they don’t have to do this, he doesn’t care if Stiles chooses to stay human, when Stiles adds “Fucking  hate needles”.

Peter arches his brow incredulously. ‘The bite doesn’t worry you, but the needles do? How did you ever manage that tattoo?”

Stiles sheepishly admits “Um, Scotty came with me to hold my hand, and I didn’t look at what they were doing, just closed my eyes?”

Peter sighs. “My husband is an idiot.”

Stiles grins and reminds him “Absolutely – we’re a matched set, remember?”

By now, they’ve arrived at their destination.

They walk in together, and choose a set of small platinum rings rather than bars. Stiles asks if they can squeeze him in for a small tatt, and they’re lucky, there’s an hour available. He tells Peter he can’t see it till later, and shoos him out of the room.

That’s fine; Peter has plans of his own.

An hour later Stiles emerges, and Peter can see a bandage on his left shoulder.  He’s burning with curiosity, but when he goes to touch Stiles slaps his hand away.

He settles into the chair.

The piercer is standing by with his clamps and needles ready, and Stiles gives him a shaky nod.  

It’s over relatively quickly;  the clamp goes on, the needle’s through, and the ring is in before he has time to give more than a shouted “Mother _fucker_!” Then it’s rinse and repeat on the other side, more swearing, and it’s done.

Stiles lets out a shaky breath, and then his whole face lights up as he regards himself in the mirror. “Hot damn,” he breathes.

Peter agrees.

And then he takes his own shirt off, grinning smugly.

His nipples are sporting a set of matching rings.

“Holy shit Peter! How the fuck did you do that? It looks amazing!”

Peter preens, saying “do you like it, husband? Apparently you can coat the needles in wolfsbane solution, and that slows the healing enough to get the rings in.”

He leans forward and whispers in Stiles’ ear “Can you imagine how they’ll look when I’m on the pole?”

Judging from the look on the younger man’s face, he can imagine it all too well. He licks his lips and swallows.

 

They dutifully accept the care instructions, knowing full well they won’t need them, and then head back to the cabin.

Time for part two of today’s plan.


	2. Fangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bite me, says the tattoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feel I need to share this with you guys. I was at work today, and working in retail it's a pretty inoffensive sound track generally, but they must have updated with it being the first of the month, because suddenly what do I hear playing but "Bird flying high, you know what I feel....", and I had to keep a straight face while cutting some lady's fabric, but in my mind all I could see was Peter Hale swinging from a pole with an oiled chest and his nipple rings glistening under the lights. And after the customer left, my workmate asked why I was grinning like an idiot, and I said "...um,I just really like that song" but I was lying, people!  
> I was thinking of Hot Oiled Peter the whole time!  
> And you know the kicker?  
> They only change the soundtrack every three months, so I'm going to be listening to that shit for twelve weeks.  
> The universe is laughing at me, I swear.

They barely make it in the door of the cabin before Peter is grabbing the collar of Stiles’ shirt and tearing it as he says “ _show me_ rabbit!” and it takes Stiles a moment before he realises that curiosity about the new tattoo is driving Peter crazy.

He laughs, and drops the shredded remains of his shirt on the floor. Peter is momentarily distracted by his piercings, but then spins him around, his hand coming to rest on the covering of the tattoo. “Can I see, sweetheart?“ he pleads. He doesn’t know why he’s so driven by curiosity, but he’s desperate to see what’s under there. He has a moment to reflect that maybe it’s because the last two were so spectacular.

Stiles grins at Peter, and tells him “Go ahead. I hope you like it, darling.” And the endearment is so unusual coming from Stiles, that it gives Peter pause for a moment.  But then he’s lifting back the dressing, and he sees what’s on there, and he can’t help but lay a tiny kiss to the area.

A stylized cartoon wolf, lying curled around a rabbit. Simple line drawings, but it’s clear what they are. Underneath, a pair of linked gold wedding bands. And under that, the date of their wedding.

“Perfect” he breathes out.

He peppers Stile’s shoulders and back with gentle kisses, careful not to get too close to the fresh ink, but also unable to look away from the picture. It’s them, in a nutshell. The wolf, curled round his rabbit, protective. The rabbit, ears up, curious, circled in the safe haven of his wolf.

He turns Stiles to face him, and says “I adore it sweetheart”.

Stiles shrugs. “Well, I wanted one more. The arm, that’s for me. Makes me think of how safe you make me feel. The words, that’s for you. Every time you see that you’ll remember me asking you. This one? It’s for _us._ “

“Stiles, I do believe you're a sap’ Peter teases.

“Hello, have you _met_ me?” Stiles replies. “Man, you’ve seen me reading trashy romances in public. I’m wild for Michael Buble. I _cried at our wedding._ How have you not realised this before now? I’m a total sap! It’s why I married you”.

There’s no reply to that, so Peter just kisses him instead. The kisses soon turn deeper, and then Stiles pulls Peter’s shirt off, ripping it off in retribution for the loss of his own. He runs his hands over Peter’s piercings, tugging them gently.

“Can’t wait till I can touch mine, so damn hot” he mumbles into the kiss. He adds “They hurt like a bitch right now though”.

Peter presses his hand up to Stile’s bare chest, offering. “Can I help, rabbit?” and Stiles thinks about it for a moment, and then admits, “Actually, yeah. My tatt throbs, my nipples hurt, and my ass is kind of a mess, because my husband can’t be satisfied, apparently.”

“Oh sweetheart, come here” Peter coos, and he gently drains the pain from his battered body.

He hesitates, and then asks, “The bite Stiles, do you still want it? There’s honestly no rush if you want to wait, but if you want to go ahead, then I need to know where.”

Stiles lets out a groan of relief as he feels the aches drain from his body, before replying “Yes. Peter. Yes, I still want the bite. No, I don’t care where you bite me. No I don’t want to wait. Honestly, all my best life decisions have been the ones where I didn’t think too hard and just went ahead and did stuff. It’s how I met you, remember?”

Peter smiles, as he realizes that what Stiles says is true.

“ So, to bed, then?” he suggests “So I can lay you out and take my pick? So many beautiful places to _bite”_. He growls on the last word, and his eyes flash red.

Stiles runs across the cabin, feet flying, knowing that Peter won’t be able to help chasing him. Sure enough, he feels hands on his hips, dragging him back, and then he’s over Peter’s shoulder in a fireman’s lift, and off to bed he’s carried. He thinks that he probably shouldn’t find it as hot as he does, given what’s about to happen, but he can’t find it in himself to be afraid.

Peter drops Stiles on the bed, and starts tugging impatiently at his jeans. ”Want to see you” he growls out.

Stiles sheds his jeans and underwear in record time, and bounces back onto the bed, careful not to lay on the side with the new tattoo.

Peter growls, and the bed dips under the weight of his body as he crawls forwards. Stiles sees him close his eyes, and breathe deeply, and then those gorgeous ice blue eyes are looking down at him.  Peter sits up over him, running his hands down Stiles body, and then he’s rolling him onto his front, kissing the edge of the fresh ink.  Stiles props himself up on his elbows, hissing as his new piercings scrape the sheets. He rolls back over, trying to get comfortable, and finally sits up with a sigh. “I really didn’t think this through, there’s no way to lie down without something hurting” he grumbles.

“Well I wasn’t the one who planned it, rabbit. But I can distract you if you like?”

And then Peter is nuzzling at his neck, scenting him, drinking him in. He kisses him up and down his body, soft little pecks, then nuzzles at his throat again. He suddenly changes, and his fangs drop,  and he sinks them quickly into Stiles’ neck just above the collarbone.

It’s done.

Stiles makes a small, hurt noise.

 Peter laps gently at the bite, cleaning it.

Stiles' breath catches.

“Shit” he breathes. “You did it.”

“Yes.”

Stiles quirks an eyebrow at Peter. “So…that’s it? It’s enough? I was expecting a giant bite in my side like Scott got, not gonna lie. “

Peter confesses “I’ve always felt bad about how messy that was. No rabbit, I’ve given you a nice, clean bite. It’s enough. “

“So, now what?” Stiles asks.

‘We wait” Peter replies simply. There’s no exact timeline for turning - could be hours, could be a day, or Stiles could start oozing black goo as the bite slowly kills him.

They both know there’s a risk with this.

 Peter tries not to think about that too hard, and they pass time by gently kissing, Stiles playing with Peter’s new body jewelry, shucking him out of his pants so they’re both naked and pressed together. Stiles asks Peter to distract him so he doesn’t freak out, and Peter tells him about Jordan asking for lessons on the pole. They poke gentle fun at the expression on the Sheriffs face when he’d seen Peter dancing. They dally with the idea of sex, but it’s an idle thought, more habit than desire and neither of them really feel like it. Stiles sings a little. Peter pleads with him to stop. Finally, as midnight approaches, they doze -  no surprise given the lack of sleep the night before.

 

Peter wakes with a start hours later, his mind suddenly racing, his hands running over Stiles, looking for any sign that it’s all gone horribly wrong, but Stiles knows him too well, and as they lay curled together he whispers ‘Stop thinking so hard, Wolfman…. Oh shit, I’m gonna have to give you a new name, I can hardly call you a wolf when I’m one too, can I? Help me out here, what am I going to call you? Maybe I’ll go back to hot bartender, or now I guess it’s hot pole dancer, Oh my God, I married a werewolf pole dancer, that sounds like the title of a bad pulp fiction novel. If I ever write my autobiography I’m so calling it that…” and on and on and on he rambles, talking about who would play him if they made the book of his life into a movie, and who would play Scott,would Scott play himself, and do you think Derek’s tapped that yet, and he wonders what Melissa will say when she finds out, but hey she married a hunter so she really can’t say much..….. his even tone and soft voice slowly calms Peter down - which was exactly the idea, Peter realises, when he hears, “Yeah, that’s better, listen to how your heart rate’s slowed down, and you smell so good too, oh wow Peter, you smell fucking incredible, I mean seriously, what cologne are you wearing and where did you get it?’

Peter sits up from the bed and breaks into an incandescent smile.

“Stiles! You can _hear my heartbeat._ You can _smell me. There is no cologne”._

It takes a moment.

Then Stiles’ eyes go wide as the realization hits him, and he looks down at his body, and sees the bruises from last night fading, the redness and swelling from his new piercings subsiding, and then he’s got his hands over his ears, frowning and going “Jesus Peter, everything’s so loud, how do you stand it?”

Peter kisses his forehead gently, and wraps his arms around him, and whispers gently that he’ll get used to it, that he’ll teach him to filter the sounds and smells, and to find his anchor, and he holds Stiles and shushes him and hugs him as tears start to run down the face of the new wolf and he starts shaking with the intensity of everything he can see and smell and hear.

 _Wolf curled around a rabbit,_ Peter thinks to himself as he catches sight of Stiles’ newest tattoo, now healed enough that he can run his hands over it as he gentles the younger man.

Stiles lays in his arms trembling and rocking for a good hour, drowning in sensation and sound, but slowly he calms, and finally lifts his head to look at Peter.

“Why can I feel you in my head?” he whimpers, and Peter answers, even though he knows that Stiles knows the reason, with “It's the pack bond, rabbit”. And as he speaks he can feel it himself, forming and getting stronger, like a string tugging him towards his husband

The bite has taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are just lucky I'm leaving too early in the morning to post this, so you get it a little early. Hope you like it


	3. Claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles launches himself off the bed and goes to the mirror, running his hands over his new body, and does a quiet fist pump when he sees the more pronounced muscles in his six pack.   
> Peter watches him, propped up on his elbow, and asks “Pleased?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do we need another chapter? We need another chapter.

After a while, Stiles falls into an exhausted sleep, overwhelmed by his transformation. Peter knows they aren’t done yet, not by a long shot.

Because he was born a wolf, he can only imagine what this must be like for Stiles, for his senses to suddenly be in overdrive.

All he can do is be here, and he reflects that Stiles was right, this is the perfect place and time for this. No disturbances, no traffic, nobody to bear witness to this but them.

It’s incredibly intimate, watching his husband, his _packmate,_ as he sleeps, seeing the changes as they occur in his body – the muscles in his neck and chest becoming thicker; those lovely long lean thighs, still gorgeous, but now more solid, slightly hairier. Peter knows that if he were to roll him over, his shoulders would be _just_ that bit wider. It’s enough of a change that everything Stiles owns is going to be _slightly_ too tight when he goes to wear it. When Stiles wakes, his whole body will be that of a stranger.

He sees him start to stir, and runs his hand gently over his shoulder.

 

 

Stiles throws him into the wall.

 

 

As he’s sailing through the air, Peter barely has time to brace himself before he crashes against the drywall, cracking the plaster and leaving a dent.

He hears a roar, and looks up to see Stiles standing over him, eyes flashing gold, claws out, fangs dropped, and ready to attack.

Peter had hoped this would be easier, really he had. He’d envisioned Stiles waking up gently, coaching him through the change, and it all being over by tomorrow.

He realises that he’d been optimistic, after all.

There’s only one way this can go now.

 

He throws himself forward at Stiles, taking his legs out from under him, and then pins him down, shifting as he does. Stiles kicks and thrashes and roars and tries to bite him, but Peter has years of experience at this, and he dodges the swipes of claw and the snapping teeth and simply doesn’t let Stiles go. After several minutes of watching Stiles snap and snarl and kick and punch, he gets tired of waiting for him to give up.

He roars out **_“Stiles”! Enough! ”_** using his full Alpha voice.

Stiles continues to struggle under him, but it’s slowing now. Peter flips him onto his front and plants himself across the back of his thighs, restraining him firmly by throwing his body over him and pinning his arms out in front.

Stiles is still fighting him, still growling, and Peter marvels at his stamina.

_Stubborn little shit_ he thinks to himself, even as he continues to pin the new wolf down.

Finally, he hears a whimper from below him, and when he looks at Stiles, his eyes have returned to normal, and he’s panting. “Can’t” he whines” can’t hold it”, and even as he speaks, his eyes flash again, and his claws retract, extend, retract, extend, and stay out stubbornly.

Peter looks down, and seeing Stiles stuck his new form, leans in and whispers in his ear, keeping a firm grip even as he’s telling him he can do this, find an anchor, relax Stiles, keep control rabbit, deep breaths.

 And Stiles does try to maintain control, and he does take deep breaths, and he thinks about a man in a clearing in a graphite suit, and a man on a pole, dancing for him, and a man sucking bruises into his neck, and a man gently kissing his tattoos, and slowly, slowly, he’s able to retract his fangs, and the claws go too, and his jaw feels normal again, and he breathes, breathes, breathes.

It takes half an hour before he’s gained enough control to stop shifting back and forth.

It’s  another ten minutes before he stops shaking and is able to speak.

“I threw you into a wall Peter, A fucking _wall_! Jesus, I’m so sorry! I had no control, none at all. I woke up and felt something touch me, and everything was so much, and I couldn’t help myself, and what if I never get control? What if I’m feral?”

He sniffles as he says it.

Peter sits back and crosses his arms. He can see that he needs to nip this in the bud.

“Stiles’ he says firmly. “Sweetheart, aren’t you forgetting something?”

Stiles looks up at him.

“Did you forget that I’m the Alpha? This is _nothing_. This is _normal_ for a new wolf. It takes more than a wall and a cocky young _pup_ to damage me”

Stiles exhales a shaky breath. He’s calmer now, and he’s managing not to drop his fangs, so Peter takes it as a win.

“It will take some time, Stiles” Peter tells him, “And the full moon is next week, so you’ll have to try and get some control before we leave here. We may need to stay longer ”.

Stiles nods,rolls onto his back, and pulls Peter closer for a hug. He starts nuzzling him, and Peter allows it, knowing Stiles needs the comfort. Stiles breathes deeply once or twice, and huffs out “Holy shit Peter, _why do you smell so fucking good?”_  before dragging Peter in and _scenting_ him, nose in the dip of his collarbone, drawing in deep lungfuls of air and moaning, and he’s licking Peter’s neck. Suddenly, Peter’s on his back, and he has time to register that Stiles is _definitely_ much stronger now, as he’s held down with his wrists over his head and Stiles continues to sniff and lick and nip at him.

Peter growls and flashes red eyes until Stiles stops, shaking his head to clear it. He gathers himself, smiling weakly in apology, before muttering “Sorry Wolfman, I don’t know what the hell came over me, but I swear to God, you smell like cinnamon, and sandalwood, and pine needles, and really manly things, like that Yankee candle you used to get that smelled like a lumberjack, only the good kind, not the sweaty kind -  Mountain Lodge, I think it was called”.

Assured by this monologue that Stiles is back to himself, Peter quickly flips them as Stiles yelps, and holds him down in an exact mirror of their position.

“Stiles” he begins sternly “New wolves do not pin their Alphas and sniff them like _a goddam Yankee candle_ ”,  but the effect is ruined because he’s smirking, and scenting Stiles now as well. “You smelt good before,rabbit, but now, you smell like sex, and like coffee, like dark chocolate, _like mine_ ” he growls out, and it’s his turn to lick and bite. The marks don’t stay very long, which is a shame, but he can always make more of them, he supposes.

Being marked by his Alpha seems to calm Stiles, which was Peter’s intention all along (and if he enjoys it well, that’s just a reward for being a good husband.)

They move to the bed and lay together naked, and it’s when they’re running their hands up and down each other’s bodies that Stiles realises exactly how much he’s changed. He looks down at himself and grins widely.

 Stiles launches himself off the bed and goes to the mirror, running his hands over his new body, and does a quiet fist pump when he sees the more pronounced muscles in his six pack.

Peter watches him, propped up on his elbow, and asks “Pleased?”

“Honestly? It’s a lot to deal with. I mean, I knew it would be, but knowing it’s not the same as _knowing_ it. And everything is so _intense_ , everything smells, and it’s loud, and everything feels _more,_ when you touch me it’s almost too much, but it also feels phenomenal. It’s a lot” he repeats.

” Overall, though? Pleased? Yes, I think I’m going to be”

Peter lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

He covers his relief by demanding “Get over here rabbit, so I can establish my place as head of the pack” as he points at the floor in front of him with a cocky smirk.

And it’s meant as a joke, but suddenly the air feels electric.

 

The need to kneel at Peter’s feet and bare his neck in submission hits Stiles like a freight train. “Yes, _Alpha_ ” he breathes.

 He slides gracefully onto his knees at the side of the bed and tilts his head back, mouth open, eyes closed.

Peter growls deeply. He shifts, and his wolf _wants._

“Stiles” he growls round his fangs, and he stands directly in front of his new pack member. Stiles opens his eyes and looks up at Peter, who’s gloriously naked and erect and _right there_ , and Stiles wants, too.

Head still tilted back, he starts to mouth at Peter’s cock. He kisses, and he licks, and he takes just the head into his mouth and suckles on it, before releasing it with a filthy slurp, saying “Damn Peter, you taste even better than you smell”.

He goes to work in earnest pleasing his husband.

He works up to a steady pace, having to wrap his hand around the bottom of Peter’s shaft because those extra two inches mean he can’t take it all in like he used to.

He looks up through his lashes to see Peter flushed with the effort of holding back his thrusts. He appreciates the consideration, but everything feels so much _more,_ and Peter tastes so good, and suddenly all he wants in the world is for Peter to fuck his face hard and come all over him, and then rub it into his skin, and huh, where did that come from?

_Wolf thing_ he thinks to himself, before moving his hands around behind Peter and gripping his ass, and steadily pulling him forwards into his mouth, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Peter’s a clever man. It doesn’t take him long to catch on.

Suddenly Stiles has a hand on the back of his head, and a mouth full of cock, and it’s moving in and out at speed. The sensation of the silky skin as it rubs across his  tongue and presses into the back of his throat is like nothing he’s ever felt before, and he wants more of it, desperately. He leans his head back and relaxes his throat and hollows his cheeks, sucking as hard as he can, and humming, and now Peter’s thrusting deep in his throat and moaning even as Stiles starts to gag. Peter continues to fuck his face roughly, only pulling out enough to allow a breath when Stiles starts to gasp for air. It’s a matter of minutes before Peter pulls out with a curse and comes, aiming the sticky white fluid down Stiles’ face and neck and chest, anointing him.

Stiles opens his mouth wide, even as another stream of hot liquid hits him. And at the sight, and sound and smell of Peter’s pleasure, Stiles’ wolf is pleased down to his core, the pack bond bright in his mind, and all he can feel is the flood of _pleasurematemine_ .

Kneeling on the floor covered in his Alpha’s release, he suddenly shifts again.

He can feel his face changing, can see the claws coming out, and he rasps “Peter!” round his fangs.

Peter crouches down next to him, and holds him firmly,  heedless of the come smearing them both, and tells him to breathe, and to think of an anchor, and to relax, and this time it doesn’t take nearly as long for Stiles to breathe, and focus on Peter’s comforting presence, and to make his way back from wolf form.

The stay there for a minute, curled round each other, both panting a little.

 “You did so well, Stiles, so well. Proud of you. Tell me, did you find your anchor yet?’

And Stiles gazes at him, and answers simply.

“It’s you, Peter. It’s always been you”. 

 

 


	4. Peter Stilinski-Hale, Ruthless Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has control issues. Peter......helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never forget that Peter will do what it takes to get the result he wants, and Peter always gets what he wants.  
> Could be seen as dub-con, but Stiles does actually consent.

Neither of them will admit to being the first one to cry, but  they both sniff and sob a little .

Because he’s Peter Stilinski-Hale, all round tough guy, he looks down at Stiles, and says “Knew you were a damn sap”.

And Stiles, because he’s more than a match for Peter, snorts “Takes one to know one. I’m not the one who bought his boyfriend a nightclub because he was all wolfy and protective. ”

Suddenly Stiles looks at Peter with a predatory grin, and before Peter has a chance to do more than blink, he’s been hefted up and thrown over Stiles’ shoulder and carried around the room. Stiles is ecstatic, crowing “Holy shit, Batman, this is fantastic! I can see why you get off on doing it.” 

He drops Peter onto the bed with a bounce, and waggles his eyebrows.

“Before anything, Rabbit, we need to talk” Peter says, patting the bed next to him.

“Talk later, sexy time now” Stiles argues, as he pins Peter to the bed. Peter breaks out of Stile’s grasp to flip them both over -  it takes more effort than he likes to admit, and why is Stiles so much stronger than he was  expecting?

Peter pins him down, and with their faces inches apart, he breathes out “Never, ever, get your fangs that close to my dick again.”

It takes Stiles a minute to realize what Peter’s talking about, and he laughs, a full belly laugh. “Sorry, dude. It wasn’t deliberate, trust me. I promise I won’t wolf out near your junk again, if I can help it. _Now_ is talking time over?”

“Talking time’s over” Peter agrees, as he leans in and yanks on Stile’s piercing-  with his teeth. It earns him a growl and a flash of eyes. He draws back, considering.

He tugs on the other side this time, pulling and twisting with his fingers. Stiles’ fangs drop even as he moans. He leans in to suck a hickey into Stile’s throat, testing a theory - and yep, a growl and a hint of claws.

Stiles’ shift is triggered not by anger, like Scott was, but by desire.

This could be a problem, Peter thinks, if he doesn’t take action.He needs to teach his pup control now, or they’ll both pay later. Peter will do what it takes to get the result he wants, and Peter always gets what he wants.

He sits up in bed, and leans back on the headboard, arms folded.

“Stiles” he begins ”What triggered Scott’s shift when he was first turned?”

Stiles looks annoyed, and grumbles “Wow, way to kill the mood right there Peter, talking about my best friend in bed. He got angry. Why do you want to know?”

“How did you teach him to control it?”

“I tied his hands and hit him with Lacrosse balls until he got it together. Didn’t work though, until he found his anchor.”

 “What makes _you_ shift, Stiles? Because it looks a hell of a lot like it might be arousal”

Stiles looks at him, opens his mouth to argue, thinks about it, and deflates slightly. “Well what am I meant to do about it? It’s my honeymoon, and I can’t get turned on in case I wolf out? That’s bullshit, but I don’t know how to stop it happening”.

Peter hums. “Trust me rabbit?” he asks.

“Depends, what are you planning?”

“I can help you get control, but it will be intense. You’ll probably hate me before we’re done.”

“Peter, what _exactly_ are you planning to do?’

 

Peter grins, shark like. “You helped Scott using his trigger. I’m going to do the same for you.

I want to pin you down, and then I want to take you apart. 

 And then I want to keep going until you learn some control. You already have your anchor, so it’s just a matter of desensitizing your wolf. I warn you though, once we start, we don’t stop.”

Stiles turns his head, looking at Peter with wide eyes. “I don’t think I can. My body’s oversensitive. Every time you touch me I’ll lose control”.

“Exactly sweetheart. With the amount of touching we do, that’s not really going to work for us is it? So I want to train that out of you. We can stop when I can fuck you without you shifting.”

Stiles tilts his head, considering, and his dick twitches.

“That could work” he concedes. ”I definitely want to try, Peter."

"You're sure, Stiles? As I say, once we start, I won't stop." Peter checks.

Stiles sighs.

"I feel like it's going to suck, but I think we need to do it."

“Sweetheart, we really don't have much choice.” agrees Peter, and he drags Stiles to sit in the V of his legs, holding him in place with an arm locked across his chest.

Stiles starts struggling, but there’s no heat to it. Peter just holds him firmly and kisses his neck until he stops moving. “Calm now rabbit, you wanted sexy times, remember? I’m just giving you what you want.” he murmurs.

Stiles calms a little, and then Peter reaches his hand around and begins stroking Stiles’ hard cock. “Relax sweetheart, and concentrate on me, “ he croons, even as he picks up his pace in response to Stiles’ whimpering  out “Fuck Peter, it’s too much! Stop! “

“Not a chance” he responds, giving Stiles a few short strokes. In his newly sensitive state, that’s all it takes for Stiles to come, swearing, and as Peter expected, starting to show his claws. He leaves deep gashes in Peters’ thigh where he’s grabbed onto him.

Peter hisses in pain but ignores the wounds – they’ll heal. He leans down and sucks at the back of Stile’s throat. Then he lifts him and flips him onto his front, pulling his legs apart and holding him down with a hand on the nape of his neck.

 **“Focus** ” he growls out, as Stiles flails beneath him, and even without seeing his face Peter can tell the wolf is still in control. Peter plasters himself along Stiles’ back and holds him down bodily with his weight and _why the fuck is Stiles this strong?_ he thinks. His fingers are still slick with Stile’s come, so he forces one into his ass.  It’s a struggle, but he presses forwards until he gets past the tight muscle. Stiles is whining and growling beneath him. Once the single digit can slide in and out easily, he adds another. Stiles roars at him then, and tries to escape him. Peter starts scissoring his fingers. It’s rough and dirty, but it will have to do, he thinks, and then he presses the head of his cock against Stile’s hole and drives forward without pausing, until he’s all the way in. Stiles howls, but he’s also humping the mattress, so Peter starts thrusting forcefully, all the while grunting out “You.Will.Focus. You. Will.Focus.Stiles.” in time with his strokes. Suddenly Stiles tenses beneath him and comes again, sobbing” Can’t, can’t, please, can’t hold it, Peter, help me…”   Peter stays firmly on top of him, repeating his mantra of “Focus, anchor, breathe, little rabbit.”

He feels the moment that the tensions drains out of him, and Stiles starts to shift back, drawing in deep breaths, hissing “the fuck, Peter?” under his breath.

Peter doesn’t loosen his grip any, though, he just kisses Stiles gently on the back of his neck and tells him “well done, rabbit”.

He asks, “Ready for round two?”

And because he’s still hard, and still buried deep in Stile’s ass, Peter starts fucking into him again, and this time he aims for his prostate, deliberately.

“I’ll fuck, and you focus” he grits out between his teeth.

He hears the low growl in Stiles’ throat, feels him tensing up again, sees the claws shredding the sheets, and speeds up. He’s slamming in with all his strength now, forcing Stiles towards the side of the bed as his body moves every time Peter plunges into him. Stiles lets out little whimpers and moans, and Peter hears the odd word,…..Peter…….fuck…..stop…can’t……..too soon…….and a strangled cry as Stiles comes again.

Stiles is too sensitive for this, Peter knows. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps going, only withdrawing when he sees the claws retract once again, and hears a sob.

“Just, please, stop, just for a minute”  Stiles chokes out.

Peter has never been a nice man, and he’s thankful for that now. Because he needs to be a bastard to do what he does next.

He arches a brow at Stiles and tells him “Sweetheart, we’ve barely started. I told you earlier, we stop when I can fuck you without you shifting, so it’s up to you. You know I can fuck you for hours if I need to.”

And he turns Stiles onto his back, drags his legs apart, forces three fingers into his oversensitive ass, and massages his prostate while holding him down with a hand on his hip.

The jolt of sensation has Stiles screaming for mercy, Peter’s fingers relentless in their attentions, and his eyes flash, and his fangs drop, but the claws only get half way out before they stop. “That’s it Stiles, keep control”, Peter encourages. And then he puts his head down and starts sucking on the head of Stiles cock, which is impossibly hard again. Between the suction and the prostate massage, it’s barely a minute till Stiles is coming again, spurting slow and lazy down Peter’s throat.  Peter swallows it easily, before checking to see if Stiles is maintaining control.

Stiles is not interested in maintaining control.

When Peter raises his head, Stiles pushes up and hurls him backwards hard, roaring out” _Enough_ , Peter!”

 

He hits the wall in a slightly different spot this time, so the dents are overlapping.

He dimly notes that Stiles has shifted back, and he seems to be in charge of the shift this time.

He stands, then, chest heaving, observing his husband - a lean, lithe twenty three year old, who’s never been particularly strong, but now seems to be a whirlwind of fury and muscle.

And suddenly, he knows why Stiles is so damn strong.

 

___________________________________________________

 

What happens if you bite a Spark?

Peter knows the answer, of course, he just….forgot.

The long answer is all about the collaborative effect of the supernatural and the magical, genetic combinations resulting in a convergence of strength and power that is far above what a regular wolf would possess. A creature that’s damn near unstoppable.

The short answer is, Stiles is going to be a phenomenal werewolf. 

The werewolf in question is giving him an apologetic look, arms raised in a gesture of surrender, saying “I don’t even know what that was Peter, I just couldn’t take anymore, and I was throwing you again, and I’m so sorry….. “

Peter doesn’t hesitate. He strides over to Stiles, picks him up, and throws him at the same wall.

Stiles hits the cracked plaster with a crunch, before looking indignant and squawking ‘What the everloving _FUCK_ man?”

Peter casually dusts off his hands, and says “Call us even. And don’t do that again, _pup_ ”. 

He observes Stiles then, and arches a brow as he adds, “Interesting to see, you didn’t shift then. Getting a little control, rabbit?”

Stiles thinks about it. “…..maybe?”….he answers slowly.

Peter’s advancing now, looking distinctly feral, as he asks, “So when I fuck you again, will you be able to stop yourself shifting? Because I haven’t come, and your ass is so deliciously tight now, I think I want more of it.”

Stiles gets a gleam in his eye.

“Let’s find out” he replies.

Peter lifts Stiles and walks over to the couch. He drops Stiles face forward over the back of it, and fucks into him from behind with no warning. Stiles yelps in shock, but he doesn’t shift.

There’s no finesse, no gentleness, just a rough pounding rhythm as Peter takes what he needs. He’s desperate to come, so hard that it hurts, and he doesn’t think he can hold back much longer. He concentrates on nailing Stile’s prostate, because Stiles isn’t asking to stop now, he’s pleading for more, his breathing quick and shallow, and his eyes closed as he fights the change even as he draws closer to climax.

Peter is grunting as he rocks in and out, harsh and animalistic. He can feel the heat in his core, and he reaches around and pulls hard on Stile’s new piercings.

It tips the younger man over the edge, and even as his body curls away from the sensation in his nipples and he starts to shift, he comes, crying out.

 The tight squeeze of his muscles around Peter pulls a groan out of them both, as Peter finally, blissfully comes, filling Stiles.

Stiles didn’t quite manage not to shift, but he manages to change back on his own.

It’s a step in the right direction.

They work on it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been thirty six hours since they slept, and they’re both sticky and sweaty.

They’ve had hand jobs, blow jobs, wall sex, couch sex, floor sex.

They’ve both called for time outs to catch their breath, pee, and eat.

Stiles has cried more than he wants to admit, both in frustration with himself, and in tiredness, but he’s managed not to throw Peter across the room again.

They make slow progress. Every time, his wolf comes out a little less, and he reins it back in faster.

Peter is pounding into him as he sprawls on the bed, too exhausted to resist, and as he loses himself in the relentless thrusting, Stiles feels something…shift. He looks for the anchor in his mind, and suddenly it’s right there -  in reach, whenever he needs it.

He feels the pleasure of being fucked, but it’s not too much now, it feels good. It feels right. The pack bond is humming in his mind, and he can feel his alpha’s pleasure with him, and his body truly relaxes. Peter’s close to coming, but Stiles really doesn’t think he can, so he just enjoys the sensation of Peter sliding in and out of him, steady and deep. He whispers in Peter’s ear “I’ve found it, Alpha” and feels Peter slam into him one last time, feels the ropes of come hitting his insides. He sighs gently, and then, surprising himself, splatters his own belly with a meagre release.

Peter groans out a heartfelt “Oh, _thank_ _fuck_ “ from above him, and he feels a hand stroking his face. He opens his eyes to see Peter smiling at him. “Good job rabbit, I think you’ve got it” he hears him say, and he realises that Peter was true to his word, and didn’t stop until Stiles managed to come without a trace of fang or claw. 

They kiss lazily, and Stiles preens a little at managing to keep control.

 They help each other into the bathroom, and they fill the tub and soak in it together, kissing gently. Afterwards, they lay on top of the blankets to sleep, because the sheets are beyond filthy but they don’t have the energy to change them. As they drift off to sleep, Peter mentions something about tomorrow, and mating bite, but Stiles has passed out so he misses most of that sentence.

 


	5. Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter catches Stiles gaze. And then he asks simply “Mate me? Today?” I don’t want to wait, sweetheart”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the updated tags, people. Things get a little...intense. I mean, I don't think anyone will mind, but never let it be said I didn't warn you *coughfistingcough*

Peter and Stiles married on Saturday. By the time they surface again after Stiles is turned, they don’t even know what day it is, and Stiles is shocked when it’s Wednesday.

After Peter fucked him into submission, they’ve spent a day and a half asleep and recovering.

Stiles wakes slowly, and stretches, slowly becoming aware of two things.

1/Nothing hurts. Like - _nothing at all._ He has none of the ache or burn in his muscles that he’s come to expect from a big night with Peter. Even his ass feels fantastic. He thinks _Score one for wolf healing_.

2/He’s fucking starving. Like, chew your own arm off starving. He thinks if he doesn’t eat soon, he’ll tip over onto hangry territory. He thinks _minus one for wolf metabolism._

They need to eat. He needs protein, he needs it fast, and he needs a lot of it.

He looks in the fridge, and sees two giant steaks and a massive potato salad. He’d put it in there when he was stocking the fridge for the honeymoon, with a vague idea of recreating their first dinner. Present Stiles thinks Past Stiles was a stone cold genius as he heats the pan and throws the steaks in.

He feels arms around him as he turns the steaks. A smooth voice purrs “I like a man who knows how to handle his meat” as Peter starts to nibble at his ear.

“Nope, need food, your meat can wait its turn” he retorts, and pulls out of Peter’s grasp. It’s still a thrill to be able to do that, though Stiles thinks his new strength is going to take some getting used to. There’s already been an incident with the door handles on the kitchen cabinets.

He expertly plates the meal for them, and Peter’s eyes light up.  It takes about three minutes to demolish their food, and they both moan out their satisfaction.

Stiles watches Peter as he eats, watches that criminally attractive neck, those powerful hands, the tiny crinkles at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, those gorgeous eyes, and without really thinking, sighs a little sigh and says “Damn you look good, Mr Hale”.

Peter’s face lights up at the compliment.

 “Looking  fine yourself, Mr Stilinski-Hale” Peter tells him, as he reaches for Stiles hand, and plays with the wedding ring there. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Peter catches Stiles gaze. And then he asks simply “Mate me? Today?” I don’t want to wait, sweetheart”

Stiles has always been a sucker for a pair of blue eyes, how can he say no to that?

“How do you want to do this?” he asks.

 Peter raises a brow, considering.

“Traditionally, there’s a ceremonial chase, and then, the bite. It’s normally a deeply moving ceremony. But do you know, rabbit, I don’t really care for tradition?’ he replies, and raises Stiles right wrist, that same one where he’d offered to bite him so many years ago, and just, _bites down_.

It pulls a shocked gasp from Stiles as he feels the sting of the wound, followed by warmth flooding out to his whole body from where Peter’s fangs are still firmly in his wrist. And he can feel something happening with the pack bond, thrumming and deepening, zeroing in on Peter, and the bond is sharper, more focused.  He closes his eyes just for  a moment, to process it all, and then the fangs are gone, and Peter’s nuzzling his throat, mumbling “mine now, always mine” even as he nips and sucks.

Stiles looks down at his wrist, expecting to see blood, but the injury has closed, leaving a raised scar to mark the site.

Peter whispers “your turn now, rabbit” and Stiles suddenly realises he’s expected to return the gesture. He knew, instinctually, that it was a two way street, but he’s new to this - he’s never bitten anything.

Peter can see his hesitation, and so he guides Stiles head forwards to the side of his neck, just about the collarbone, and waits.

And Peter smells so damn good, and Stiles is so  attracted to him that it’s no problem at all to drop his fangs and bite down, even as he grimaces at the taste of blood in his mouth.

He pulls off, and closes his eyes for a moment, willing the fangs to retract, practicing his new control. It takes a minute, but he does it. He can feel Peter’s pride and affection radiating through the fresh bond, and from the look on his face, Peter can feel him too.

It’s like a livewire between them, strong and sharp and pure, and Stiles thinks that of he feels this for the rest of his life he’ll never tire of it.

“Mate” Peter says reverently, and his face breaks into a smile of pure joy.

“Mate” Stiles repeats, and his smile matches Peters.

 

One thing the Damn Book never told Stiles was that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off his mate, but Peter tells him it’s perfectly normal, although Stiles does seem particularly affected, even as they rut desperately against each other, with Stiles backed up to the wall.

 “Can we run today, Peter? I might actually make it back here for once without you catching me “ Stiles grins, as he pants and grinds against his wolf.

Peter grinds back, hard and urgent, and huffs out “Can’t run like this rabbit, take care of me and we’ll see”.

And it’s true, they’re both so hard they can barely walk.

Stiles lifts Peter up and carries him to the bed, where he lays him down, and looks his fill.

Peter tells him drily “Not getting any younger here, Stiles”

Stiles straddles him then, still looking and touching, and reaches for the lube to slick Peter up.

He hesitates.

Peter sits up, attentive now.

“Stiles? What is it rabbit?”

Stiles is honest to god blushing. Peter is intrigued. “Was there something you wanted? “He asks.

“Um, I know you said we’d discuss it first, but it’s our first time as mates. Will you knot me?’ he asks shyly.

Peter groans, deep and low. “God Stiles, _yes,_ please”

He pulls Stiles down onto a passionate kiss, as he rolls them over.

“Going to take care of you rabbit, take my time and get you ready, stretch you out, open you up with my whole hand, get you slick and dripping for me, make sure there’s plenty of room, baby” he  groans out, and the level of sheer desire that Stiles can feel through their new bond and hear in his voice makes him shiver.

“All of that please, yes, definitely” he babbles, even as he hears the snick of the lube cap and sees Peter pouring the liquid onto his hand.

His whole hand. Stiles shivers in anticipation.

Peter rubs his slick fingers across Stile’s hole, spreading the lube as he goes, and then gently works a single finger in, slow and gentle, watching to make sure that Stiles keeps his wolf under control. He can see him breathing deeply, eyes closed, and he seems to be OK, so Peter adds a second finger after a few minutes.

Stiles moans then, and starts stroking himself, long strokes, enough to keep him hard, but too slow to get him anywhere. Peter watches avidly, enjoying how he can feel Stiles’ arousal through the bond.  He starts to twist and turn his fingers, brushing Stile’s prostate gently, but that’s not his goal right now. He wants Stiles relaxed and ready for him, so he’s not rushing.

By the time he adds a third finger, Stiles is stroking himself with a little more purpose, thrusting up into his fist. Peter leans forwards and licks a wide stripe up the underside of his shaft, and he can feel Stiles twitch and harden further under his attentions.

 With three fingers moving in and out smoothly now, Peter takes Stiles into his mouth and begins steadily applying suction as he bobs his head up and down. He hears a low growl, and glances up. Stiles eyes are flashing, but then Peter can see the moment he regains control.

Stiles grins at him, and Peter can feel his relief at not shifting through the bond. He goes back to steadily working at Stiles’ cock with his mouth, sucking firmly on the head, and seeks out that spot inside with his fingers more deliberately, pressing against the nub of flesh as Stiles moans in pleasure. He can tell the young wolf is getting close, and he whispers “Let go for me rabbit, need you relaxed” even as he presses his fingers in more firmly.

He feels the splash of salty liquid hit the back of his throat, and swallows it down before gently releasing Stiles from his mouth.

Then he withdraws his hand partway and adds more lube, rubbing it over his whole hand. He knows how big his new knot can get.

Stiles is laying there in a daze, relaxed and loose after his orgasm, and he doesn’t protest as Peter pushes him over onto his front with his  knees under him, chest down on the bed, ass up.

“OK rabbit, ready for more?’ he asks.

Stiles hums in assent, and wiggles his ass at Peter in encouragement.

Peter eases three fingers back in just to test the stretch, and happy with what he finds, slowly eases his pinky in as well. That earns him a small whimper, but he knows it’s not from pain as much as from the stretch. Peter’s hands aren’t small, and he works the broad flat of his hand in and out for long minutes until he can tell that Stiles is relaxed again, and ready for more. He’s thankful for the mate bond, because he can feel how Stiles is reacting without having to ask. He just knows, and it’s amazing. Even more so when Stiles can read him just as well.

Still, he has to ask. “I need to get my whole hand in there Stiles, or the knot won’t fit. Are you sure?”

Stiles says “I know what you’re doing. Bond thing remember? Go ahead, just….. go slow”.

With his mate’s permission, Peter tucks his thumb inside his fingers, and gently, gently, presses forwards, his other hand making soothing motions across Stiles back and hip.  He thinks at first he won’t fit, Stiles is groaning under the pressure, but he’s also gasping “S”ok, can take it” as his rim stretches wider to accommodate Peter’s knuckles.

He lays there panting for a second as they both pause, and then he nods, and Peter forces his hand forwards, and the widest part of his hand sticks for moment. Stiles takes a deep breath and relaxes just a fraction, and it’s enough for Peter to slip in.

Stiles _squeals_ , instinctively pulling forwards and scrambling away from the invasion, but Peter doesn’t pull out, he presses deeper, holding his target in place with a hand firmly round his hip, twisting his hand as he does, stretching and loosening Stiles from the inside, making room for what’s to follow. The movements press his fingers against Stile’s prostate, and that earns him a guttural moan as Stiles stops squirming away, and instead starts to relax his hole as much as he’s able.

Peter gently curls his hand into a fist and rotates it, moving it in and out and around, until he can slip it in and out easily and he’s confident he’s done enough to ensure he won’t hurt his mate.

Stiles rocks his hips back onto the fist that’s inside him as he slurs out “Yeah fuck, ready….“

Peter gently withdraws his hand, massaging Stile’s rim with his thumbs and stretching him out as he looks in awe at the sight in front of him.   
 “Oh rabbit, you do look ready” he breathes. Stiles is stretched wide open, glistening with lube, his rim puffy and twitching, just asking for a knot.

Peter quickly adds more slick to his straining erection, and feeds the head easily into Stile’s gaping hole. It slides in like a hot knife through butter, and with one firm motion he’s all the way in, balls deep and panting with anticipation.

He rocks in and out, setting a languid pace, taking his time. He’s enjoying the noises Stiles is making, and the sense of satisfaction he can feel through the bond. He allows himself to get lost in the sensation of heat and slick and pressure as he slides easily back and forth, bottoming out on each stroke and feeling the press of his sac against Stiles’ ass.

“Yeah, more….  S’good, keep going” Stiles moans out, arching back into the thrusts.

 

He picks up speed, and Stiles is making those delicious unh… unh… unh..  sounds that he loves, and it spurs him on to drive in a little harder, a little deeper.

Time has no meaning, and it seems like a lifetime before he feels his knot really starting to swell, the base pressing against Stiles’ loose rim and just, just, nudging in a little.

Peter leans in, presses forwards harder, and Stiles responds by pressing right back against him and grinding. The added friction causes his knot to swell to its full size.

Peter drapes himself across Stiles’ back, whispers “Love you, rabbit” and presses forward. It’s a tight fit, but the knot starts to squeeze in, stretching Stiles out more the further it goes. Stiles is whimpering loudly, partly at the stretch, partly in need, but neither of them takes it as a reason to stop.

As Peter reaches the widest part of his knot, he takes a deep breath and just _pushes_. There’s a moment where he thinks it can’t possibly go in, it’s just too big, but then, Stiles screams as it’s finally, finally in.

It’s in, it’s done, and it feels like nothing he’s ever experienced before. The Alpha knot is bigger and so much more sensitive. It’s engulfing his senses as he revels in the pressure and pulse of Stile’s hot channel around him.

He can feel through the bond that his mate is overwhelmed, but he’s not unhappy, just …thunderstruck.

As if to confirm this, Stiles grits out ‘Holy shit, that’s _deep,_ Peter, fuckity fuck fuck…” even as he clenches around the knot involuntarily. The clenching triggers Peter’s release, and it catches them both by surprise as he grinds his hips forwards suddenly and the knot locks in as he starts coming.

He reaches under Stiles and wraps his hand around his leaking member, stroking up and down quickly until Stiles comes all over the bed,with a grunt, causing his ass to squeeze even tighter around the knot. His whole body shudders, not sure what to do with the massive intrusion, but his wolf is going _wild_ at being claimed by his mate in such a primal manner.

He collapses forwards, arms and legs unable to hold him up any longer, and Peter rolls them onto their side so they’re spooning. 

Stiles is making soft snuffling noises of satisfaction and pleasure at the sensation of Peter pulsing inside him, grinding back occasionally, pulling Peter’s arm round him, and Peter is thrilled to feel the waves of contentment rolling off his mate.

They snuggle there together, drifting, as they wait for the knot to go down.

 

Stiles comments sleepily, “Like this bond thing. Know how you feel. Don’t have to guess”.

“No” Peter agrees, “Don’t have to guess, rabbit”.

 

“Like your knot. Like that it’s just for us “Stiles yawns out.

“Yes,” Peter agrees. ” Just for us, rabbit”.

A moment of silence.

 

“Big fucker, isn’t it?’

“Yes rabbit, it certainly is”.

Another pause.

 

“Think this might be a special occasion kind of thing. Like, Christmas maybe”.

“Well obviously rabbit,” Peter replies. “If we did it all the time it wouldn’t be special”.

 

“Snuggle now, shower later?”

“Yes, rabbit, snuggle now, shower later.”

 

And then he leans forward and kisses at Stile’s neck, whispering “Mate”.

“Mate” Stiles murmurs back, voice soft and sleepy.


	6. Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of their honeymoon flies by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throws last chapter at my three adoring fans - Ta Dah!

On Wednesday evening, they eat everything they can lay their hands on, both of them starving - Peter because he’s knotted his mate, Stiles because he’s a new wolf who was knotted by his mate. It’s been a hugely exhausting experience all round, but neither of them would have missed it.

 

On Thursday, Stiles learns to use his pain draining skills on Peter after he chases him round the room just for the hell of it, goes to tackle him, _wildly_ underestimates his strength, and sends them both through a plate glass door and headfirst into a post on the porch.

Stiles gets to watch his new werewolf healing take effect on the glass cuts littering his forearms and face. They seem to heal ridiculously fast, even for a were.

He mentions it to Peter, who squirms a little.

Stiles is too damn smart, thinks Peter, as his husband looks at him through narrowed eyes, then  pokes him firmly in the chest, saying”Peter? What aren’t you telling me?

Peter breaks it to Stiles that there *may* be a few extra effects from the bite, because of Stiles being a Spark.

Stiles stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Define ‘ _may_ ’

 Define ‘ _a few’_

Define ‘ _extra effec_ ts’, oh husband of mine” he demands.

Peter sighs. “Honestly rabbit? It’s so rare for a Spark to be bitten that nobody really knows how different you’ll be. It hasn’t happened in over a century, so details are sparse.

The only thing that we know for sure is that you’re going to be remarkably strong.”

They both side-eye the shattered door.

 “I know there’s more, Peter -spill”.

“So far, you appear to be super sensitive to external stimulus. It’s probably  why you kept shifting at my touch initially – sensory overload.  That’s why you love to touch so much now– what felt good before must feel amazing now.

 You appear to have an extra level of control, because for you to be able to hold back your shift after only a few days is phenomenal. Other than that? I have no idea. You’re probably faster, definitely heal quicker, and god alone knows what’s going to happen at the full moon.

 It’s like everything about you has been turned up to eleven – maybe even twelve. I’m so sorry Stiles, I genuinely didn’t even remember about this when you asked for the bite.”

It takes a minute for Stiles to digest all this, and then his face breaks into a massive grin as he picks Peter up in his arms, swinging him around bodily in undisguised glee. “Oh, my god, this is _fantastic_!” he laughs. “What you’re saying is that basically, you _forgot_ I was a spark, and now I’m a werewolf version of Captain America. Oh, this is fucking hilarious Peter, this is _gold_. Wait till I tell Scott! “ and he enthusiastically throws Peter in the direction of the bed.

“Direction” being the operative word. He overshoots by about three feet and Peter brains himself of the corner of the drawers in the bedroom.

Peter gets to lay in bed while they have a conversation about appropriate use of werewolf strength, and Stiles sheepishly brings him food and beer as an apology. Peter fixes him with an unimpressed look, and informs him that giving your new husband _two_ head injuries deserves more than a sandwich.

The apology blow job is much better received.

It’s the day before the full moon, and Stiles is twitchy. Peter takes him out running as promised, to burn off his nervous energy. They run for hours, and it’s a more even match than Peter might care to admit.

Stiles beats him back to the cabin for the first time ever.

 As his prize, he demands Peter give him a massage, because he says he just needs to relax, and surely they can keep it PG for once.

Turns out they can’t - although to be fair, they don’t try very hard, either.

Peter comments that he wonders if Stiles’ newfound need to constantly touch him will wear off.

 Stiles shrugs, and says that if it never does it’s fine with him.

Peter admits that it’s fine with him as well.

And well, that seems like a good enough reason for round two.

 

 

On Friday, it’s the full moon. Both of them are restless.

They spend the day with Stiles practicing his control, which really is impressive now. Peter tells him what to expect as the moon rises, and then reminds him that because he’s a special case, all bets are off. As far as reassurances go, it’s pretty ineffective.

There’s a wrestling match, (which Peter wins, but less easily than he’d like) and then a tumble in the sheets, as a way to blow off steam.

They get out the wedding present from Noah. Stiles cuffs Peter’s wrists, and then fucks into him roughly, desperate and wild. Peter lets him, enjoying the illusion of helplessness that the restraints offer, and they both come gasping and swearing. Stiles keeps control, and doesn’t shift.

As the moon rises, they make their way outside, and Stiles feels the pull of the moon for the first time. His blood pumps, and every nerve thrums and sings. At Peter’s urging, he lets go, and he shifts, and he howls, and suddenly he’s an actual wolf.

 Stiles has shifted fully, and it’s a beautiful thing.

He’s long and lean as a wolf, with soft chocolate fur, tipped with gold. There’s a slight upturn to the end of his snout, and his deep golden eyes flash with mischief, even in this form.

He whines and nuzzles Peter’s hand – this wasn’t expected. Peter soothes him gently, rubs his hands through his fur, calls him gorgeous, and tells him he’s magnificent. Then Peter shifts too, also a full shift now he’s Alpha, and they nuzzle at each other gently before Peter's black wolf takes off into the night, and Stiles follows him.

They run. It’s glorious.

Peter keeps a careful eye on Stiles, corralling him if he goes too far towards civilized areas, but otherwise lets him explore without interruption.

 Stiles finds himself drawn in by the scents of the woods and the sounds of the other animals he can hear in the undergrowth. It’s exhilarating. He savors the stretch of his new muscles as he runs freely in his wolf form, loping easily between the trees, stepping lightly over obstacles. He feels like he could do this for hours, and he’s enjoying it all immensely.

He feels _alive._

He captures and kills a squirrel, which thrills him more than he’s willing to admit.

He definitely doesn’t eat it. At most, he gnaws at the edges, and it’s only one squirrel, anyway.

…maybe two squirrels.

It’s nearly morning by the time they make their way back to the cabin, tired and filthy. Peter’s grinning, and he’s obviously hunted something larger than a squirrel, given the dried blood on his chin.

Stiles looks him up and down.  He looks himself up and down.

He spits out a tuft of fur from between his teeth, and promptly loses his shit.

He’s crouched on the porch, arms wrapped around himself, shaking as he has a meltdown.

 “This is real, fuck, I’m a _wolf,_ and I wanted it, but also, I’m fucking terrified! I _ate squirrels_! How the hell did I full shift?” he sobs out.

Peter’s there in a second, his arms wrapped around him, soothing him.

 He tells him “Sweetheart, to be able to fully shift, it’s a gift. When you took the bite, because of your Spark you became something more, and this is part of that. I don’t know exactly how this is going to play out rabbit, but can you trust your Alpha to take care of you while we find out what you’re capable of?”

He holds him for long minutes, until he can see Stiles starting to relax, can feel his heartbeat slowing to a more normal rhythm, as he settles through their bond. Stiles lets out a shaky breath, drawing Peter in for another long hug.

Then he looks down at himself and wrinkles his nose, muttering “I need a _long,_ _long,_ shower man, I need to wash this forest crap and dead animal off me. I swear to god I smell like a wet dog, and you’re not any better. I mean, there’s no guarantee I didn’t lick my own ass last night.” Peter snorts, and leads him inside to the bathroom.

Stiles has calmed down a little more now, and once they’ve showered he’s almost back to his old self.

Peter knows this because Stiles is singing as they pack up to leave. It’s truly awful.

He’s butchering Dean Martin today, putting his all into it as he sways, dancing and crooning  along,  “Like the fella once said, ain’t that a kick in the heeeeeeaaad….. “

Apparently Stiles’ new abilities still don’t extend to any kind of natural grace, but his enthusiasm is impressive.

 

“Stiles” Peter calls, distracting his mate.  “When did you plan to see Noah and tell him?”

There’s no need to ask what they’re telling him.

Stiles looks shifty.

 “He, um, might have known what I was going to do before I asked you? He saw the tattoo”.

Peter looks at him unblinkingly, suddenly irritated.

“So, you’re telling me that  I’ve  spent a _week_ thinking about how your father, the Sheriff, owner of wolfsbane bullets, is going to react to me telling him I gave you the bite, and you never thought to mention  to me that _he already knows_? ”

“….sorry?……”

Peter’s snappish now, irrationally annoyed that Noah knew about Stiles’ plan before he did.

 “So _Scott_ knew because he went with you, and _Noah_ knew because he saw the tattoo, who _else_ knew what you were planning before me? Jordan? Derek? The guys who work at the bar? And while we’re on the subject, what exactly were you going to do if I’d said no to the bite? You’d be stuck with a tattoo saying **_bite me_** _,_ taunting us every time we saw it – hardly a recipe for a solid marriage. I wonder whether you’d thought that through.”

Stiles snaps back “Actually, I _did_ have a plan for that -I was going to get it changed to “Peter Hale can bite me because he’s a gigantic _ass_ ”.

Peter stops in his tracks then, and cocks an eyebrow. They face each other, arms folded, chins tilted, each challenging the other to _go ahead and say something_ , _I dare you._

But Peter’s not Left Hand for nothing and his expression is pure ice. He waits, implacable, unmoving, hard faced, and eventually Stiles sighs, and wilts under his gaze.

“OK fine, you might not be _entirely_ wrong” Stiles concedes. “I should have asked you before anyone else knew. But I didn’t think you’d say no, not really. I mean, we were getting married, and I knew your wolf side wanted more. And I wanted to give that to you, I really did. But if it will make you feel better I, Stiles Stilinski-Hale, do solemnly swear not to get another tattoo without consulting you first, Wolfman”.

 He gives Peter a soft look through his lashes, and pulls him in for a kiss, and just like that, his irritation melts away. This is his rabbit, after all.

“Idiot - good thing you’re pretty” Peter huffs out, but he’s nuzzling Stile’s neck as he says it.

There’s a small delay leaving the cabin as they stand there, scenting and comforting each other, stealing small shy kisses, leading to tiny licks and nips on throats, leading to hands under shirts and running up backs, leading to hands on belts and zippers, leading to one last round of honeymoon wall sex.

As Stiles comments later, “that drywall was fucked anyway Peter, what’s one more dent?”

They grab their bags and lock the door behind them, leaving their sanctuary and heading back to the real world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, she wrote! I hope you enjoyed it :)  
>  But of course, if there was anything you wanted to see from this 'verse, feel free to chuck it in the comments and I'll ask the boys what happened. They might even tell me. (Stiles loves to overshare, it's a little disturbing).  
> Comments and kudos are love, people.


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